


A Public Kiss

by Aithilin



Category: Final Fantasy XV
Genre: Awesome dad Regis, Established Relationship, Fluff, M/M, Secret Relationship, Slice of Life
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-14
Updated: 2020-06-14
Packaged: 2021-03-04 02:14:54
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,066
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24715903
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Aithilin/pseuds/Aithilin
Summary: Nyx and Noctis had gotten into a habit.
Relationships: Noctis Lucis Caelum/Nyx Ulric
Comments: 5
Kudos: 84





	A Public Kiss

**Author's Note:**

> Prompted over at my Tumblr

“Did you two just—“

There was a natural movement between them. It came with months of familiarity in stolen private moments. They had months of sneaking away from the watchful eyes of the Citadel, skulking in its shadow as Noctis slipped from the role of Crown Prince to quiet citizen moving through the familiar streets of his sprawling city. There were months of being lost in crowds and shadows, even in the silent corners of the Citadel gardens where it seemed like the plants of Eos had bent themselves to shelter them. 

There were easy movements— a guiding hand on a hip s Nyx slipped from one place to another, a gentle promise of reclaimed lost time in a brush of hands as Noctis moved between duties— that had become a sort of language of their own under the watchful Citadel. One that had evolved easily between Council rooms and audience chambers, as they struggled with words to bring those natural movements to the light of Lucis itself. To the judgement of Lucis. 

But they had miscalculated. 

There was a quiet corner of the Citadel gardens the citizens never saw. A corner where the air hummed with life aided by the Crystal, fragrant flowers blooming out of season and in the wrong soils as if by magic. It was the corner of peace where the oldest trees claimed— ashen Tenebrae oak with its long and twisted roots barely contained by the rooftop gardens and under a constant inspection from the gardener, boughs stretching across the little alcove Noctis liked best like a ceiling to keep the corner from view— and the wildest flowers grew. There was a patch of Sylleblossoms in this corner; a legacy of colour no longer as popular as the familiar blue. It’s perfume almost overpowered the others; the proud gladioli guarding the singular pathway into the alcove, while the wild Cavaugh iris with it’s mottle of red and yellows got into places it shouldn’t. 

Noctis had taken a corner at the little garden table where the gentle, enduring lilies had taken route. They were diligently pruned, he knew, to prevent a similar take-over like the snowbells and marigolds. But he liked them best, ever since Nyx had sat with him to admire the fresh blooms. 

Now, with Regis and Clarus and half a dozen of his father’s Council filling the garden with their nonsense prattle about surveys and polls, Noctis had been itching to find an escape. At least find a way to turn the topics away from what a handful of Lucians thought they should be doing, when he knew that the majority down in the streets below didn’t care what they did to rule them so long as their peaceful lives weren’t interrupted. 

And Nyx had sensed his growing restlessness. 

He had mean to offer reassurance in their own language. A brush of hands as Nyx refilled a teacup, a soft smile of promise as he was called away to see to another section of the garden. But he had moved without thinking. 

They both did, and Noctis had kissed his cheek with a soft ‘thank you.’

It was Gladio who noticed first, though it was Clarus who commented. 

“Did you two just—“

Noctis hated the eyes of the kingdom on him on the best of days.

“Ah, yes,” Regis had said in response, “I nearly forgot.”

There was a moment of silent panic as they both froze in place. Nyx, unsure if he should snap back to his military training or flee the gardens and possibly the kingdom. Noctis had flushed, but his mouth a hard line; without the luxury of an escape, he settled with a fight response, ready to defend his actions. 

At the edge of the table, hidden by a teapot, Nyx brushed Noctis’ hand in reassurance and made his move to diffuse the situation. “Excuse me, Majesty, I have—“

“No no, forgive me Sir Ulric. I forgot that we had meant to invite you to this little gathering as a guest, not a guard.”

The buzzing of a little bee bumbling from flower to flower to sweet filled table could have filled the air of the garden. Noctis squeezed Nyx’s hand in reassurance, more familiar with the kind light of mischief in his father’s eyes. Clarus made a gesture to some shocked staff and another chair was sent for. Another place was being set in a flurry of activity that broke the spell of the King’s words. 

Nyx suddenly realized that he may need a drink stronger than the fragrant tea being served. “I don’t understand, Majesty.”

“My apologies, Nyx,” the King smiled with a familiarity that made Nyx pale under the attention; “I forgot the preparations in the chaos of the last few days. Join us, please. I had meant to ask how you found that restaurant my son brought you to last week? It was a favourite of his mother’s too.”

Noctis relaxed, barely. “I don’t think this is the time for that, Dad.”

“Nonsense,” the gathering seemed to restart with a flourish as Nyx was seated, his uniform out of place among the finery of the Council. Regis nodded his approval as Nyx was settled an inch or two closer to Noctis than was considered a professional distance. “Unless you’d rather tell me about that little place downtown, that patio restaurant? The place Nyx favours.”

Nyx flinched at his name slipping from the King, as the Shields were both eyeing him up now. 

One brave Council member cleared her throat to speak, setting her teacup to its saucer as she recovered from the confusion cast across the table. “I believe we were discussing the survey from the Northern District? Where the Cavaugh loyalists have gathered, Majesty.”

“So we were,” Regis nodded, “but while you would focus on results and answers from a select few, I believe I would rather hear the opinions of a citizen myself. My son has been far more proactive in learning the opinions of our people.”

All eyes turned to Nyx, and Noctis in turn. 

The Council member Nyx recognized from his own home district spoke up, “If you would, Sir... Ulric? Was it?”

“I don’t know about the politics,” Nyx started, encouraged by the hand that had moved to his knee; “but...”

Noctis mouthed a soft ‘thank you’ to his father, who offered a nod in response.


End file.
